The strange bird of prey in his hands had long tail feathers. Three feathers at each wingtip were especially long and slender, like three sharp daggers jutting out. Long feathers at the back of its head formed a distinctive crest. Everything about the bird made it look remarkably swift.
The bird had been quite lucky. By the time the arrow reached it, the shot had lost much of its force. Though the bird had fallen helplessly, the fall had not killed it. It had no strength left to escape, however, and had become tightly tangled in the vines of a cluster of thin parasitic plants. Tesolys had caught it with ease and carried it all the way back to camp.
After carefully reading the note in the copper tube, Tesolys fell into thought. A bold idea had suddenly occurred to him, and he was weighing the risks and benefits of carrying it out...
"Marcus, bring me the map."
The parchment map was sturdy and durable, carefully stored in a cowhide tube for protection. Probably no one had even thought of leaving it behind when they broke out of the battlefield.
Now it slowly unrolled before him, revealing terrain drawn in fine black lines, with red symbols and lettering marking the towns. The map was unexpectedly detailed. It even showed villages and some streams.
It was only a local map, covering a limited area, so it could tell him nothing about the world as a whole. He felt a brief flicker of disappointment, then began studying it closely.
After a long while, he silently straightened up.
"Doctor."
"Huh? I'm here, I'm here."
The girl curled up beside the campfire hurried over. She wiped the grease from her mouth and set her bowl of meat on a nearby tree stump.
"You're supposed to answer 'Present,' or... Never mind. It doesn't really matter..."
Tesolys took the bird by its wings and lifted it over.
"Can you treat this bird's injury?"
Talina pressed her lips together slightly and leaned closer to examine it. But the vicious creature suddenly thrust out its hooked beak and pecked at her eye, as fast as lightning. The girl could only give a startled cry. There was no time to dodge...
A large hand came between the girl and the bird. Its hard beak pecked at the steel gauntlet with a grating squeal.
Two fingers pinched its head. The sharp pain immediately made the large bird struggle. But as the pain grew worse, it suddenly stopped moving. When the fingers let go, it stayed quiet, trembling.
"Marcus, bring some rope. Tie up this beast's feet and bind its beak shut."
...
"It's nothing serious. The bones in its leg are just out of place... Did you really shoot this down with an arrow?! A windroamer falcon can reach the clouds. Even the best hunter couldn't hit one..."
Tesolys toyed with the long, blade-like feathers on the bird's wing as he watched the girl bend the bones in its foot with her hands.
"I was only taking a chance. There was no guarantee I'd hit it."
"Other people wouldn't even have a chance to take..."
The girl shook her head rather stubbornly. As her two slender fingers pressed down hard, the large bird struggled desperately. But with its wings and beak firmly bound, it was helpless...
Click!
The previously limp foot suddenly regained its movement and began kicking hard. But both feet were tied with thin cord as well. After a couple of struggles, it stopped moving.
"Good beast. I still need you to deliver this letter."
The bird no longer dared harm Tesolys and let him tie the copper tube back onto its leg. Once he had untied the cords, Tesolys tossed it into the sky. The bird beat its wings desperately, as though fleeing, and vanished from the woodland in the blink of an eye.
"Alpos..."
Only Tesolys remained, gazing upward and murmuring a name. Or rather, a place-name.
* * *
The windroamer falcon's sharp eyes picked out a conspicuous target: a copper pipe projecting from a tall tower, wrapped in thick layers of leather. A basket hung beside it, giving off the bloody smell of fresh meat.
The bird had no idea what mission it was carrying out. It only knew that when released, it could return to a certain place. The freshest meat would always be waiting there, coated in blood that had not yet clotted.
Without hesitation, it beat its wings to slow down and descended toward the copper pipe. Stretching out its long talons, it landed firmly on the perch and began tearing at the fresh, blood-soaked meat.
A servant in a short green tunic came over and removed the copper tube from its leg. The large bird was interested only in its food and showed no sign of wanting to attack the approaching servant.
The servant took the finely made little copper tube down from the tower. A fully armed cavalryman reached out to receive it, then urged his warhorse into a swift run along the city's stone-paved streets.
There was not a glimmer of firelight in the city. Ordinary commoners could hardly afford the luxury of lighting a lamp at night. But by the bright moonlight, the cavalryman still reached the foot of a hill without difficulty.
Here, the road was paved with fine marble. A brazier blazed every three meters, and a steady stream of servants came to add fuel from time to time, keeping the entire hill brightly lit until dawn.
A huge building stood at the top of the hill. This fine structure of creamy-white marble was the residence of the city's master, Lord Ka Hils Rute, Protector of Alpos and Lord of Stantli. From the highest point in the city, it overlooked every corner of the streets below.
The cavalryman raced up the hill without being stopped. No one barred his way when they saw the red silk ribbon on his shoulder. He dismounted and passed unchallenged through a gate heavily guarded by soldiers. In a broad hall, he handed the copper tube to an elderly Hols man whose hair and beard were completely white.
The old man turned and climbed the stairs to a door on the second floor. Music, cheers and laughter came from within. When he pushed the door open, a wave of warmth washed over him, easing even his skin.
The wide hall was filled with the scent of fine wine and food, the music of a band playing with all its might, and the sounds of people laughing, talking and singing loudly. The old man crossed the smooth oak floor and stopped behind a Hols man in a dark-green robe standing at a window.
"My lord, a letter from Lord Toris..."
The Hols man turned, revealing high cheekbones and long, sharp eyes. A thin mustache covered his upper lip, and his long, pale-gold hair was gathered into a thick bundle of braids that hung down his back. His thin lips pressed together slightly, then curved into a mocking smile.
"Toris? He's asking me for help already...? What a useless fool."
The old man did not dare reply. He simply kept his head lowered.
...
Author's note: I originally considered having Kaso's wife die during the pursuit too, leaving only an orphan to take revenge later, or something like that... But it still felt a little too cruel, so I let her live...
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